


time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses

by radiowrittenheart



Category: Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Bittersweet, Family, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Oneshot, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiowrittenheart/pseuds/radiowrittenheart
Summary: Late night, when the kids are asleep and the mansion is quiet, Beakley and Scrooge enjoy some tea and talk about family.





	time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses

**Author's Note:**

> this is what my life has come to  
> writing fanfiction about these dumb ducks that make emotional
> 
> anyway i appreciate these two as bros and i want webby & beakley backstory  
> this happened

A single light was on tonight in the McDuck manor, and the owner of aforementioned manor was wide awake.

He noticed the light was on in the kitchen, above the island.

There was some soft clattering, a familiar humming of ‘Blackbird’ by The Beetles, and Scrooge realized he wasn’t so alone. Although, 12:42 in the morning was quite an odd time for anyone to be up.

Some company right now would do him good.

“Mr. McDuck, you’re still awake,” Beakley noted when she saw her boss shuffle into the dimly lit kitchen.

“Yes,” Scrooge said softly. “You’re still working?”

Beakley shook her head. “Just making a cuppa for myself and Webby. Poor thing had a nightmare and well, I can’t deny, chamomile is lovely,” She adjusted the cups on the tea set just so, then glanced at her boss. “Would you care for some?”

Scrooge faltered for only a moment, then nodded. “Yes, actually,” he replied. “Tea sounds just fine.”

He was handed a steaming cup of the tea, Beakley dropped half a teaspoon of sugar in, and he gave a light murmur of a thanks.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“You… could say that,” Scrooge said.

Couldn’t stay asleep was the better explanation. Not with the boys in the room next door, excitedly whispering about all the adventures they could go on, all the splurges they could have now… it was a bittersweet thing to hear. It relieved him to have his family running up and down the halls once again and yet, at the same time, it pained him. The boys reminded him of a young Donald and Della.

Dewey, with his curiosity, adventurous spirit and that stubbornness that would ruin them all. Just like Della.

Huey, who was cautious but brave and loyal as they came. Much like Donald.

And then there was Louie, who came along for all the wild rides and was ready to weasel them out of any sticky situation. That was a bit of both.

Scrooge couldn’t sleep knowing he might hurt them too—

“Mr. McDuck?” Beakley’s voice finally broke his train of thought. “I asked if you wanted cream with that.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Scrooge mumbled, finally taking a sip of his chamomile.

“Very well,” Beakley said, with a curt nod and pouring a cup for herself.

Her hefty mug read ‘ _there will be no bitching in my kitchen_ ’, written in elegant cursive— Scrooge grinned. The slogan was very fitting for his housekeeper. And while she sipped her tea, she occupied herself with wiping some dust off the fine oak cabinets with the sleeve of her sweater.

No rest for the weary, it seemed.

“How do you do it?” he wondered aloud.

“Do what?” Beakley asked.

“Oh, well,” Scrooge tapped his fingers against the cup. “You just… seem to handle everything. Cooking, cleaning, keeping unruly ruffians off my property,”

“Well, you did ask for a bodyguard and a housekeeper,” she replied. “You don’t usually get a two for one in a case like that.”

“No, no, you don’t,” Scrooge admitted, his tone of voice almost absentminded.

Beakley couldn’t help but smirk, though. “I must admit, though, I didn’t take this job because I have a passion for cleaning windows and washing dishes,” she joked.

The wealthy duck almost laughed. “I suspected as much,” he said.

He couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t bossing Beakley around or telling her what to do. She had been his faithful employee, a part of the McDuck residence as much as he was, for a good decade. And just now was he getting around to talking to her. Scrooge almost felt guilty.

“Was it for safety then? Normalcy?” he said. “You had quite the resume.”

He knew about Beakley’s friends in the government, how she spent five years in Russia with monks, her ability to kill a man with nothing but a newspaper and a tube of lipstick…

...but he didn’t know _her_.

And to think, he had bothered to learn Quackfaster’s favorite chocolates. She never made him tea.

“Something like that,” Beakley said, a smile playing at her lips. “And of course, my family.”

“Family,” Scrooge echoed. “Of course.”

“Someone had to pay for the expenses required to raise Webby,” Beakley said simply.

“Adventurous lifestyle didn't pay enough?” Scrooge asked.

Beakley huffed, rolling her eyes at her boss. “You know, you and I aren’t so different, Mr. McDuck,”

Frowning in disgust, but light in his eyes, Scrooge shook his head. “Not a chance, Beakley,” he scoffed. “But,” He paused, then lowered his head. “Now that ya bring the wee lass up, why is it just you and Webby?”

“It took you almost ten years to ask that?” Beakley said, giving a short, almost rueful laugh.

“Heh, I… suppose so,” Scrooge mumbled.

Beakley’s smile was limp, almost weak as she placed her mug down. It was now almost empty, nothing but a thin layer of tea left. “My daughter passed in a freak accident. Buried alive. She was an archaeologist. And my wife was so grief-stricken, she just left one day.”

“Pardon?”

Beakley arched an eyebrow, and Scrooge cleared his throat. “Carry on,”

“Right. Well, that happened. And as for my daughter’s husband, he was so distraught, he… let himself go. I volunteered to take Webby, she needed someone stable to take care of her. That’s why it’s just me and her,” Beakley sighed. “Whatever wild story that imagination of hers has thought up for her parents not being around, I’m going to let her believe until she wants to know the truth.”

She paused, folding her hands and placing them in her lap. A moment passed before the housekeeper sighed heavily.

“You know, you never did say what exactly happened to your niece,”

“I’d rather not,” Scrooge grumbled. “Mostly because I— I don’t even know what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Beakley asked, knitting her brow together.

Scrooge tapped his cane impatiently, squinting at his housekeeper. “I _said_ , I don’t know what happened to Della,” he declared. “All I know is that Donald blames me, an’ somehow, I ended up blaming him. He was the last one to see her, after all. According to him, she just… disappeared.”

“And then you got that cryptic letter only a few months later,” Beakley mumbled, almost to herself.

“Ya remember that?”

“It isn’t everyday you see Scrooge McDuck shed a tear. Plus, you did buy out the whole post office and whatnot.”

Scrooge nearly groaned as he sipped his tea. Yes. Not his proudest moment. But heartbreak did odd things to him… if odd was even the appropriate word to use. Beakley refilled her cup and sighed, holding it firmly and staring at the beverage like it was a wishing well, something that could give her all of the answers in the universe—

—and then she furrowed her brow when she saw a tiny figure looming in the shadows.

“Webby,” Beakley mumbled, staring up and noticing her granddaughter repel down in a harness.

“Granny! You’re okay! I thought the Dark Shadow Forces got you!”

Beakley couldn’t help but smile as Webby unclipped the harness, falling directly into her grandmother’s buff, outstretched arm. “The ‘Dark Shadow Forces’, hmm? And you think I couldn’t take them on?” she laughed.

“No, you probably could,” Webby admitted. “But I was getting impatient.”

“Of course you were, darling,” Beakley said, placing her granddaughter on her shoulders.

“Hiya, Mr. McDuck!” Webby beamed. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? I thought old people went to bed at, like, seven o’ clock!”

“ _Webbigail,_ ” Beakley mumbled through gritted teeth.

Scrooge couldn’t help but grin. “Ah, the lass is right,” he assured. “I should be heading off to bed. Good night, you two.”

“Good night, Scrooge,” Beakley said, giving the tiniest smile— and receiving the same from her boss.

“Good night!” Webby beamed, giving a wave as the rich duck began to walk off, his cane slightly thudding with each step he took into the dimly lit hallways of the mansion.

A content sigh escaped Beakley, and she grabbed the silver tea tray — pure silver, just in case Scrooge’s magical defenses didn’t work properly — that had her own mug, Webby’s beloved unicorn-head shaped one, a small teapot with just enough tea left for a few more cups and a small pile of snickerdoodle cookies.

She began heading down the hallways of the mansion, back towards their own little living quarters, when the housekeeper realized something.

“Webby, you never did tell me what that nightmare was about,” Beakley mused. “Would you like to talk about it? Because something tells me it was fueled by those dreadful horror movies the nephews keep watching with you. You know that mole monsters and homicidal dolls don’t exist.”

Webby sighed, burying her face into her grandmother’s hair. “I, uh, I lied to you, Granny. I didn’t have a nightmare, I just— I was up late thinking,”

Beakley adjusted the teapot on the tea tray and softly hummed out an _“Oh?”,_ beckoning her granddaughter to continue. A quiet moment passed before Webby let out a soft whine, holding on tight, almost shaking—

“Webbigail? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I love you, Granny, I really do!” Webby blurted out, a slight whimper in her voice. “You’re the best grandma ever, but ever since Dewey got me going with this search for his mom, I… I was just wondering what happened to _my_ mom and dad. A-and it’s not like I can track them down, I don’t know their names or anything...”

Beakley nearly dropped the tea tray.

“I, uh, I’m pretty sure they’re not FBI agents who got abducted by aliens,” Webby mumbled. “That’s kinda what I’ve been telling myself.”

“Oh, Webby,” Beakley sighed. “Come now, let’s— let’s go have our tea and we’ll talk, alright?”

“Granny? Are you upset?” Webby whispered.

Beakley shook her head, marching forward with the tea tray. “Not at all, dear,” she assured. “I,” She paused, then sighed, staring at the starry night sky through the elegant windows the McDuck manor had. “I always knew this day would come.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated! c:


End file.
